


someone special

by AFireInTheAttic



Series: Quote Meme Prompts [8]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Baker Scott McCall, Flirting, Getting Together, M/M, Snapchat, The Happily Ever After Project, Wooing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-25 07:37:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12526292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AFireInTheAttic/pseuds/AFireInTheAttic
Summary: Derek snaps a picture of the cookies and sends it to Scott with the caption “Forget something?”Scott replies with a picture of the preserve. Instead of typing a response, he’s drawn the word “No” in bright blue paint.





	someone special

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted from my old tumblr! Prompted by [Raé](http://etherealrae.tumblr.com/)! 
> 
> "I'm trying to flirt with you, okay?"

“What is this?” Derek demands, looking around his kitchen in dismay.

Stiles, who’s sitting on the counter and swinging his feet, is probably the only clean thing in the room. He smiles and gives a small wave to Derek.

Scott, on the other hand, whirls and almost drops the tray of cookies he’s holding. “I’m baking cookies,” he says, like that should have been obvious.

It is, but Derek had mostly been talking about the mess of his kitchen. “Were you going to clean?” he wonders, almost idly, picking up the washcloth from the sink and starting in on a counter. “And why are you here? Shouldn’t you be using your own kitchen?” The two of them are on break from college, and normally Melissa wants to keep Scott home as much as possible. She might be on shift now, but she should have had no problem with the two of them wrecking her kitchen.

“Mom would have teased me about it.”

“About baking?” Somehow Derek doubts that. Melissa was the most understanding woman he’d ever met, and she’d never had an issue with gender roles, as far as he knew.

Stiles giggles and shakes his head. “Oh, no, it’s not what you’re thinking. These cookies are for someone  _special_.”

Scott turns red and busily starts cleaning alongside Derek. He also plates the cookies (on one of Derek’s plates, like Scott didn’t have his own. Derek tries not to groan). “Shut up.”

“Nah,” Stiles says, and swings his feet some more.

“Please be careful not to kick the cabinets.”

“Okay,  _grandpa_.”

"I’m four years older than you. Shut up.”

“Both of you are so touchy,” Stiles teases.

They both glower at him at that, though Scott’s glare is a little more affectionate. Derek has no such misgivings.

The kitchen isn’t really as bad as it had looked. There’s flour in a couple spots, and Scott had left eggshells on the counter, but overwhelmingly, the mess is contained to bowls, and the two of them make quick work of it while Stiles starts humming some odd tune. It vaguely resembles the wedding march, or maybe the playground rhyme about people kissing in a tree. Derek can’t really be bothered to remember those things.

“Thanks, Derek,” Scott says, when they finish. He hands Derek the plate of cookies he was holding and smiled at him shyly, almost, which is ridiculous because they’ve known each other for three years and been friends for at least two. The last thing he should be feeling is shy. “These are for you.”

He takes them, a little surprised. He hadn’t expected to reap any kind of rewards for having a usable kitchen. Shouldn’t the cookies be going to the  _special someone_ , primarily? Derek shouldn’t be getting any. “Thanks?” he says doubtfully.

“ _Noproblemthankyouagainseeyoulaterbye_!”

That takes him a minute to interpret, and he’s still breaking the words apart when the two of them disappear from his loft. “Weird,” he mutters, and eats a cookie. He wanders back into the kitchen and finds two more plates of cookies sitting on his counter.

Maybe Scott just got flustered because he got caught baking in Derek’s kitchen and forgot about them?

He hears the Jeep leave the parking lot.

“Okay,” he mutters, and opens Snapchat. He uses it primarily to send pictures to Cora, but he gets a steady stream of weird selfies from Scott. He snaps a picture of the cookies and sends it to Scott with the caption “Forget something?”

Scott replies with a picture of the preserve. Instead of typing a response, he’s drawn the word “No” in bright blue paint.

He sighs and rolls his eyes up to look at the ceiling. How did he get stuck dealing with so many 19 year olds?

Unbidden, the memory of Stiles saying “someone  _special_ “ surfaces and he blushes. That’s definitely ridiculous, because Scott doesn’t like Derek, not like that.

He sets the third plate of cookies on the counter by the other two, and braces himself carefully there for a second. Okay. He’ll take this slowly. He sets the kettle on the stove and opens his cabinet full of tea. Kira has him stocked on all her favorite herbal teas. They both prefer rose hips, but he tries not to drink the rose tea when she’s not there to share it with him. He takes out the box of lavender tea instead, and idly snaps a picture of his teabag and his favorite mug. He might as well make this as personally impersonal as possible. 

"Are they for me?” he adds as a caption, and sets the time for ten seconds. Send.

Another snap of the preserve arrives, though this time it’s the edge of it. “Yes” is written in orange this time, at the bottom of the picture.

He stares at it for the allotted six seconds, and then eats another cookie thoughtfully. He snaps a picture of the kettle when it starts to steam and whistle. “Not a special someone?” he types. Four seconds, because he’s almost afraid of the answer.

This time he gets a picture of the sky, which is clear and blue. Scott must have stuck his arm out of the window to get such a clear shot. He typed this time. “I didn’t say that.”

Another snap comes before he can reply to that, which is good because Derek has no idea what to say and entirely too much hope blooming in his chest.

It’s a picture of the radio and dashboard and has a filter that makes it look hipster and arty. Derek grins a little at that and reads the message nervously. “You’re special.”

A third snap immediately follows. “A special someone,” it reads over the same picture of the dashboard. “To clarify,” comes in as a text message, and Derek smiles a little at that.

“Why?” he texts back, because he doesn’t know what to take a picture of. He’s boring—he likes sunsets over the ocean and people who drive around Beacon Hills in golf carts. Coincidentally, it’s what Cora likes to see, too, so it’s always worked out.

But he’s never known what to send Scott. It’s usually whatever he’s doing, never a picture of himself which seems…oddly overconfident, almost. It’s not what Scott wants to see. Or maybe it is, and he’s just never realized it before.

The text in return doesn’t come for a couple minutes, but finally it does arrive. “I’m trying to flirt with you, okay?”

“To woo you,” follows immediately after, and while Derek is still trying to come to terms with what may be a practical joke, nothing comes through.

He’s about to reply with something when another text comes in. “Sorry, that was Stiles! But yeah, to woo you. It’s just not how I would have worded it.”

He stares at the text message for a while. Scott doesn’t have many flaws, and cruelty is definitely not one of them. He’s almost too kind. He wouldn’t joke like this, not with someone’s feelings. Finally, he types, “You’re wooing me with cookies and snapchats of the preserve?” It seems safe to take it with a grain of salt, but he’s unwilling to treat it like it’s not real. He doesn’t want it to be fake.

There’s a pause before a text comes through again. “Isn’t that what you like?”

Fair enough. He smiles a little and drinks some of his tea. “Yeah,” he sends. His tea is the perfect temperature now, so he takes another sip and kind of hugs himself as he leaves the kitchen, carrying his phone in one hand and his mug in the other. He stretches out on the couch (it’s new, because last time Cora visited she refused to go near the couch and Derek is a wimp when it comes to pleasing his little sister. She’s spoiled rotten, probably).

His phone chirps and he slides it open.

“Is it working?”

He grins and downs the rest of his tea. He starts to type out “yeah” but then thinks better of it. “Maybe. You should probably woo me in person next time.” And then he adds an actual winky face, and sends it before he’s embarrassed of himself.

Scott snapchats a picture of himself smiling in his bedroom.

Derek can’t think of anything he’d rather have opened.


End file.
